Flirting With Disaster (9 page)

And just as he predicted, Dane had awaken
with plenty of regrets about the night before. He glanced toward
his bed, shook his head, and stared out the window again. Relaxing
was out.

His phone buzzed in his pocket. A quick
check before he stuffed it back into his pocket.

Tate had sent one
word:
Bwahahahahaha!

Pretty much the same gist as Reid's text an
hour ago, the one that had jolted him up from the bed.

Dane wished he could say part of the night
was blocked from his memory. He remembered every single lust and
liquor soaked memory. Something all their friends had
witnessed..

Brooke groaned, grabbed a pillow and threw
it over her face. “I'm in your bed.”

He took a sip of his coffee. “Naked in my
bed, but your virtue's still intact. In case you don't
remember.”

“
Even if I didn't, I'd feel
like I had sex recently. I don't.” She paused, still talking to him
beneath the pillow. “What do you remember?”

“
After I had a taste of
you...” He watched to see if she'd react to that. She shifted her
legs beneath the covers and moaned. He smiled. “We went back inside
The Grog, danced, had a few more drinks. When the night wound down,
our friends repeatedly asked if we were sure that taking you home
was a sound idea.”

“
They should have ignored
us and that dumb-ass, difficult-word sobriety test we did.” She
laughed, though. “What was the word we had to say to prove we
weren't drunk?”

“
Facilities,” he said,
shaking his head. “We couldn't say it. They dropped us off here
anyway.”

She threw her arms over the pillow and
pressed it closer to her face. She was probably trying to suffocate
herself while trying to remember the rest of the night. “For some
reason, we ate in your kitchen in our underwear.”

“
We were making out, almost
to the finish line and you said you were hungry. We ate leftover
spaghetti I made that afternoon.”

After that he'd taken her upstairs where
they kissed for a long time—without clothes. At some point they
took a rest because the world was spinning too much. They
transitioned into taking turns drinking water out of the bathroom
sink, laughing about that too, and then passing out in his bed.

All night, they'd been vulnerable and open
and none of their differences mattered. In the light of day, he was
halfway across the room from her and she wasn't ready to come out
of hiding from beneath his pillow.

He regretted them having to be drunk to be
that way with each other. She wanted an apology. For him to bend
and be something she could dictate—mold as she saw fit. He could
say he made vows to never touch her again, but he'd brushed his
teeth, eaten, and was drinking coffee. He could still taste
her.

He'd been right last night. His need for her
dug under his skin and made his spine stiff. He wanted to climb
into his bed with her.

“
You're so quiet,” she
said.

“
You're under a
pillow.”

“
My eyeballs might catch on
fire. You have the windows open.” She twisted in the covers and let
out a breathy sigh.

The walls closed in on him. He may have been
across the room but it wasn't far enough. If he got into bed with
her, he'd forget why he shouldn't have. Last night hadn't changed a
thing. She might have been laughing at the moment, but the
suspicion would come back with the bite in her voice and they would
be back at square one. In spite of that, her taste would continue
to haunt him.

“
Get yourself together.
I'll feed you, walk you home.” He paused. “Get you some
aspirin.”

“
And?”

He set his cup of coffee on the nearby side
table. “Do you still want me to apologize for what I said a year
ago?”

“
Yes,” she said and then
sighed again. “No.”

His head jerked back from the shock of the
answer. “Okay.”

“
I want you to tell me
about your ex. You started to last night and then we got
distracted.”

An apology thrown by the wayside to learn
about his ex...an intriguing request. But he'd talked about
Tatiana? Dane scrounged in his memory for that. He lifted his
brows.

She'd asked him before he fed her. She had
been surprised he knew how to cook beyond warming up takeout, and
high-end takeout, at that.

“
Tatiana was high
maintenance. Ambitious. She had tunnel vision. I was part of her
five-year plan. I came from a good family. I looked good on paper.
She had to live in a way that would look great to her CEO. Not
entirely her fault. Women have it harder in the corporate
world.”

Brooke peeked out. Her hair was a mess, but
she still looked tantalizing with her sleep-swollen lips. “Because
when she does marry, the CEOs start thinking she’ll have babies and
lose her head.” She narrowed her gaze on Dane as though looking at
him with an intense stare would tell her where he stood on that
issue.

He tried to run through what she'd muttered
before he licked her. He couldn't put the picture together from
what she told him, so he thought about the woman she was.
Independent, would likely yell at him if he asked her to cook
dinner or clean. Prickly as hell but polite. After her choice in
liquor last night, he could guess she came from money. Dane
couldn't even begin to imagine why his words would make her look at
him like that.

“
You're right,” he said.
“It's a catch-22.”

She clung to the cover but sat up. “What
happened?”

Of course she wouldn't let this go. He
smiled at her for a second. “She had the idea we’d get married, but
at the perfect time. She'd get pregnant before it was considered
high risk. She'd run the world before forty.”

Brooke frowned. “And...what did you think of
that plan?”

He shrugged. “We’re no longer together. What
do you think?”

She sat up straighter and tried to corral
her hair into something presentable. “I think you don’t like women
to be in the driver’s seat.”

“
Wrong. It’s attractive. I
don’t want to be someone’s be all to end all. And her plan only
involved me because she needed someone on her arm, a sperm donor
later. Our life together was all about hers and what I'd do to fit
into it. I was something to help her check off items on her to-do
list.”

“
There’s a bite in your
voice over that.”

“
I’m over my ex, but she
left...a bitterness in my mouth.”

Brooke’s gaze softened. “I’m sorry for
that.”

Surprise stiffened his back. “You sound
sincere.”

“
Because I am.”

He could leave it at that, but they both
were still opening a vein, showing each other their hurts. “And
your ex?”

“
Fair play?”

He nodded. Brooke sighed and added, “He
wanted me to be a little homemaker, and I wanted to be that for
him. You'd have liked me then. I agreed with him, because he was
the man. I cooked for him. Had sex regularly because that's what
you do. I was born and bred to be a lady whose crowning achievement
was to get married and have babies.”

He tried to imagine Brooke like that, and he
had to laugh. “No, I wouldn't have liked that Brooke.”

Her face flushed from the compliment. She
glanced down and picked at stray threads on his comforter. “Well, I
wasn't that docile. Sometimes he'd do things that pissed me off,
disappointed the shit out of me. I'd—I'd go to my mother for
advice, and she'd reassure me.”

“
And your mother would give
you advice to be...docile?” He couldn't wrap his mind around
that.

She nodded. “The man is the king of his
house.” She scoffed. “And then my brother got into cars. He'd bring
around these old junkers that weren't worth the money he spent on
them. At first I'd watch and he'd have me get this or that. It
wasn't long before I was up late at night researching whatever car
he was working on—the common problems and coming up with solutions.
It became a passion. So when I changed my focus to being a mechanic
in college, my ex lost interest.”

She shook her head. “I was still me, but he
wanted...traditional, and I tried to be for him. I remember cooking
him dinner one night. I was dressed sexy. I brought out the good
dishes, candles. And I spent half the night waiting for him like a
cliché. Drinking the wine, getting madder by the minute, and at the
end of the night, I had enough.”

Brooke’s voice was thick with emotion. She
closed her eyes. “I decided I would never again wait on a man. He
wouldn't be my everything. He wouldn't be my barometer for how well
I was doing in life. He wouldn't tell me who I should be.”

Dane wiped his mouth in hopes that would get
rid of the sudden bitterness. It didn't. “Your ex sounds like a
dick.”

She laughed and opened her eyes. “Yeah, but
it wasn't just him. I still deal with that bullshit. People come
into my shop and see that I'm a woman...” She met his gaze.

“
I'm not your ex. I'm not
your mother.” He paused, a thought hitting him. “That's your
contact? Your brother.” He laughed at himself for having been
jealous.

“
Told you it wasn't
a
him
.” She gave
him a sidelong glance. “You were jealous.”

“
So were you. That's what
started this mess.”

She glanced down. “There's no way I can get
up without you looking. You'll say you won't, but you will.”

He wouldn't even tell that lie. “My memory
is fuzzy from last night. I might need to add in some details I
might have missed.”

Brooke just blinked at him. He pointed to
the nightstand. “There's water. I'll get started on your breakfast.
Come down when you're fully dressed.”

He rose from the chair, waited until he was
almost out the door before saying, “For instance, I'm a bit unclear
about your heart-shaped birthmark.” It was on her ass.

“
We have to stop doing
this,” she said before hiding under the covers.

That was a new point of contention for them,
because he felt like they'd just gotten started.

*****

Peyton's eyes were wide as she sipped on her
thai chi. Brooke fought her sigh. Her friend expected racy details
of a drunken night filled with naughty shenanigans.

Was Brooke embarrassed over her behavior?
Hell, yeah. She'd drunk way too much and had gone home with Dane.
No one but her friends would believe nothing had happened.

She ate a chip from the bag sitting in front
of her. She'd gone into work, but had only flailed about until
Peyton called her to meet at the coffee shop.

“
So, do you need me to come
by tonight?” Brooke asked.

“
Don't you need to
recover?”

Brooke glared at her friend. “I'm a bit
groggy, but I should be fine.”

Peyton sipped her tea and smacked her lips.
“Do you think that's a good idea?”

Brooke growled out her frustration. “Just
ask me so we can get past this part of your curiosity.”

Her friend blinked, trying her damndest to
look affronted. “Naomi isn't here. I want everyone to get all the
deets firsthand.”

She laughed, exasperated. “God, I hate
you.”

Peyton grinned. “Dane's a good guy.”

“
Maybe.”

“
Maybe?” Peyton
straightened. “He took advantage of you last night?”

“
No.”

She wished they'd taken advantage of each
other. Instead, what they had done when they were at his house was
innocent and poignant somehow. If he were a monster underneath his
stylish sweaters and expensive jeans, she'd have something to gripe
about. But no, he'd taken care of her and would have walked her
home if she'd let him.

He'd been so open with her when he'd told
her about his past. And man, his ex was a piece of work. Honestly,
they'd experienced the same kind of crappy relationship drama. Men
weren't supposed to have needs outside of sex, they didn't love
their children or want any like women did, etc, etc. She'd bet
money his ex didn't see what was wrong with those ideals and
beliefs. Her ex definitely hadn't seen the problem with her role as
the “woman” in the relationship.

Brooke covered her face with her hands,
because everything was muddied between them now. His comment about
women not loving cars as much as men fought with the Dane she'd
experienced last night and this morning. The only clear thing was
she wanted him in her bed. The night wasn't that fuzzy from liquor.
She remembered every touch, every kiss, how warm and smooth his
skin had been pressed against hers.

He wasn't the man she'd believed he was, and
he was every inch the man she thought he was. Those complex and
fractured images warred with each other.

“
Don't ask me about Dane.
When I think about him my brain starts to hurt. Let's talk about
something simple. Like, how I have to call my brother today.” She
thought of the cars they did have and let out a frustrated sigh.
“Let's talk about how I'm probably going to ask my brother to stay
on and help me with those cars.”

“
The cars are that bad?”
Peyton asked.

Brooke dropped her hands. “Yes and no. I can
do it alone, but it makes no sense when my brother can help. We'll
get the job done faster.”

“
Faster?”

“
Much. Naomi has this neat
little timeline and I'm not looking to linger over this job. She
can do the shoots later, get together all the details, but I'd
rather have those cars ready sooner than later.”